


“you don’t have to say anything.”

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [58]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Libraries, M/M, Modern AU, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22211662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Hazel Wong practically lives in the Deepdean & Weston library, memorising the face of every student. However, there is one student that catches her eye, and they get to know each other without speaking a word.Modern AUWritten for the fifty-eight prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [58]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	“you don’t have to say anything.”

Deepdean and Weston is a sprawling school, acres and acres of land and free periods piled on each other, scholarly terminology and a smart uniform, the 1930s tucked away on some secret grounds in the middle of the English countryside.

The library is a decent place. The shelves are dark oak and the lighting in low, though bright in the areas for children, and even brighter at night to keep students from dozing off on their books. They stock everything from CDs to magazines to leatherbound volumes that predate England itself, and they cycle through playing all manner of music throughout the day.

All of this and more is why I basically live there.

I know Beanie Martineau and Kitty Freebody, two students in Year 11 who sit at a table and laboriously go through all of the former’s work until the words no longer shoot past her ear and out of the nearest window. I once helped Beanie through a history assignment when she was brought to near tears, and the following day she presented me with chocolate and flowers and a tag with my name spelt utterly wrong. Naturally, I was delighted by it. I’ve been Beanie’s designated history tutor ever since. While I go over the material, Kitty curls up to read mystery novels.

I know Lavinia Temple, an unkind student in Year 11 who grumbles through her homework and grumbles while issuing books and grumbles some more when children ask her questions. After some digging (only a little; I sat by her side for a while), I realised that it is all because of her home life. I try to make sure that people are kind to her now. 

I know Alexander Arcady and George Mukherjee, the two staple servants of the library who alternate between sorting shelves and working behind the desk, swapping roles each day. Both are students in the Sixth Form who are labelled as ‘abnormal’, one for autism and the other for anxiety. Both do most of their work through their computers and live in the library as I do, and I utterly love their constant presences. I got to know each of them individually, barely computing that they knew each other until I realised that the ‘cute boy’ each of them rambled about was the other. I then doubled my efforts to make George confess to his crush, and it worked (I saw them working behind the desk together with their hands clasped on the desk between them).

I also know the blonde girl.

The blonde girl is a constant presence in the library, though I have never once seen her anywhere else. She sits at her table in the corner with her laptop, textbooks, and notes, surveying the room with her curious blue eyes.

I wonder how much she knows.

In September, I’ve just started Year 13 and am absolutely determined to get ahead in my studies. It’s the first day of term, a day full of admin and marking my names on packets of coursework, and I’m reading a book on colonial America that the syllabus recommends. The blonde girls gets up from her table (my table faces hers, so I am alerted to her every movement) and goes to issue a book. At the desk, she makes some sort of gesture at George, sticks up her middle finger at Alexander, and walks away with a Dickens novel clutched to her chest.

She notices me staring at her and our eyes lock. With a deeply assessing look, she seems to gather everything about me as a person before frowning, looking me up and down, and looking into my eyes again. Before I can duck my head away, she points to the book she’s holding and cocks her head.

After a moment of pause, I nod and grin, giving her a thumbs up.

Her expression doesn’t change, but she grips the book harder as she walks back to her desk.

* * *

The day after that, I return the favour.

When I hand George  _ Murder On The Orient Express _ , he raises one dark eyebrow. “You sure, Hazel?”

“Yes.”

With one last amused look, he scans it and hands it back. “Have fun not sleeping.”

Before I sit down at my desk, I get the blonde girl’s attention and point to the book, cocking my head.

She nods at me and gives me a thumbs up.

It’s a good book.

* * *

She reads  _ Pride and Prejudice,  _ I read  _ The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. _

She reads  _ To Kill A Mockingbird, _ I read  _ The Wych Elm. _

She reads  _ The Art Of War, _ I read  _ The Murders in The Rue Morgue.  _

She reads  _ Northanger Abbey, _ I read  _ The Maltese Falcon.  _

She reads  _ The Great Gatsby, _ I read  _ My Dark Places. _

She reads  _ Frankenstein, _ I read  _ The Woman in Cabin 10.  _

She reads  _ Madame Bovary, _ I read  _ My Sister, The Serial Killer.  _

She reads  _ Wuthering Heights, _ I read  _ The Likeness. _

She reads  _ Anna Karenina, _ I read  _ The Talented Mr. Ripley.  _

She reads  _ Jane Eyre, _ I read  _ The Murder at the Vicarage. _

She reads  _ Three Lives, _ I read  _ The Body in the Library. _

She reads  _ The Grapes of Wrath, _ I read 

She reads  _ Great Expectations, _ I read 

She reads  _ The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, _ I read  _ The Postman Always Rings.  _

She reads  _ The Red Pony, _ I read  _ Rebecca. _

She reads  _ Black Beauty, _ I read  _ The Mysterious Affair at Styles. _

She reads  _ The Pearl, _ I read  _ In Cold Blood. _

She reads  _ The Turn of The Screw, _ I read  _ Death On The Nile. _

She reads  _ Carmilla, _ I read  _ The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. _

I don’t much like  _ In Cold Blood _ , while  _ The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn _ bores her to tears. We still haven’t spoken.

* * *

One day, her book choices become more random. When she presents them to me, she taps the first letter, not the book in general.

On a hunch, I note the letters down.

**_D_ ** _ a Vinci Code.  _ (Classic.)

**_A_ ** _ Good Girl’s Guide To Murder.  _ (An admirable choice.)

**_I_ ** _ n a Mass Knife Fight to the Death Between Every American President Who Would Win & Why? _ (That one makes me chuckle.)

**_S_ ** _ aint-Germain Cycle.  _ (I read it that day and find that I have a penchant for historical vampire novels.)

**_Y_ ** _ ou Know They Got A Hell Of A Band. _ (She seems like the kind of girl for horror.)

**_W_ ** _ e Need To Talk About Kevin. _ (I read it in my second free period and it horrifies me.)

**_E_ ** _ verything, Everything.  _ (My sister Rose’s favourite book).

**_L_ ** _ ast Week Tonight with John Oliver Presents A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo. _ (I could not stop laughing when I saw that, and then I got up to ask George why the library stocks that book. He shrugs and says that Alexander ordered it in as a joke after he watched  _ Last Week Tonight _ .)

**_L_ ** _ ais of Marie de France.  _ (My father had me read this book when I was young, and I remember it with a jolt the moment she holds it up and points).

**_S_ ** _ imon VS. The Homosapien’s Agenda.  _ (A wonderful book that Alexander recommended to me last year.)

D, A, I, S, Y, W, E, L, L, S.

Daisy Wells.

“Hello, Daisy,” I say as I walk past her on Saturday, but she doesn’t react.

Frowning, I settle down to my studying.

* * *

At the end of the day, I walk back towards her table and say, “Hey. Daisy, I know that we don’t know each other but I feel like I’ve got to know you through all of these books, so… would you like to go on a date with me?”

There is a long pause, and I desperately add, “You don’t have to say anything but I _would_ like some sort of response.”

While talking, I jerk my leg and bump it against her table, and she looks up from her table and moves her hand in a wave. She holds out her pointing finger and moves it side to side, then holds out a fist and moves it up and down in a jerk, then jerks two fingers from her head in a salute.

“Uh… I’m Hazel Wong.”

Her voice is a little scratchy and stumbling when she speaks. “You don’t speak sign language, do you?”

I peer at her table and see a notebook open to a plain page. I reach over and tear it out.

_ No, _ I write on it.  _ But I could. We’re in a library, I’m sure that there is a book that could teach me. _

When she reads it, she frowns. “Nonsense.  _ I _ could teach you.”


End file.
